His Last Tears
by CANDYisEpic
Summary: The last time Near ever cried, was also the last time he ever lost. Also the last time he ever tried to punch through a wall. One shot.


**Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Don't own Deathnote. Wish I did. Anywho this is my first Deathnote Fic (SO DON"T KILL ME PLEASE!!!!) and a little Oneshot with L and Near at Whammy's. In it we learn, YES!! Near hasn't always won at everything. YES!!! L _is_ actually creeped out a little at his successors' likeness to himself. (Wouldn't you be?) We also get a little insight into why Near is so damned unemotional all the time. (Forgive me if its a little vague (^_^') ) hehe.  
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**To Suzette and KnutCase: I'm slowly beginning to accept that neither of you will ever like Near, but that doesn't stop me from thinking that he's cute in his own little "Well you found me. Congratulations. Was it worth it?" monotonal, level headed, slightly evil, passive agressive and apathetic** **way (Sounds a little like GLaDOS, no?). But did you guys ever think he actually gets a lot of this from L himself? **

**Anyhow, I might write a Mello and Matt one next to make up for this, just for you, Su. And perhaps some fluff for Morii chan too ^^ Provided she "MAKES ME A BANANA SPLIT!!!!!" ;D ILM!  
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~ His Last Tears ~**

The little white-haired ten-year-old punched the white wall with all of his strength. A small crack appeared in the plaster and another crack came from his fist. He cried out in pain and sank to his knees, cradling his shattered hand to his chest, tears of anger and pain staining his face.

'_I hate you._' he chanted in his mind, directing all his hate and fury at the face burnt on the back of his eyelids. The face of the smirking blonde _girl_ who had beaten him. Beaten, for the first time in his life. By... _Mello?_

His fists unintentionally clenched at the thought, and as searing pain shot through his hand he couldn't help but sob. Biting his cheek didn't hold them back; they came in waves that shook his entire frame. He didn't even bother trying to tell himself that it wasn't important. That it was Just A Game. Here, it was universally accepted that nothing in this godforsaken place was a game. Everyone here couldn't help but be caught up in the 'Race To L'. Every game, every _conversation_ was a battle. A tournament to see who would become reigning champion. A War. Near had lost. And everyone had watched as he lost.

He bit his tongue against the anger and the shame.

L himself had watched as Near had lost.

A fresh wave of tears assaulted him. He was still in shock; that sickening feeling of speechlessness still churned in his stomach. He'd been stumped. Outwitted. '_By _Mello_???'_

"Near?" floated a soft-spoken voice from the door behind him.

He knew it immediately. Near said nothing. There was nothing he _could_ say for himself. The shame manifested itself in a lump in his throat that blocked out all words.

"I heard noise coming from this room. Are you alright?"

He still couldn't trust himself to speak so he nodded, hiding his tear-stained face from the young man that stood in the doorway. He knew the man wouldn't believe him. He was the greatest detective in the world for a reason, after all. _'The Greatest In The World' _Near repeated in his mind, bitterly. Longingly.

"There's a crack in your wall." the soft voice pointed out quietly, and Near heard his idol and mentor's shuffling footsteps approach him. The youth had one of his hands in the back pocket of his jeans as he went past Near, to the crack in the plaster, and examined it. Near knew he was only doing it for show though, as he thought of what to say to the crying boy at his feet.

Finally the master-detective turned around and Near was able to meet those abyss eyes once more. Eyes that drowned you in black. Eyes that, until now, Near had been proud to share. Now he just felt inadequate, dwarfed by their calm depth. Still, he forced himself to look directly into them. He wouldn't lower his standing even more by looking away. L's eyes searched his own for a moment, then, flicked down to the broken hand that was cradled in the boy's lap. The raven haired youth bit his thumb for a brief moment, in thought, and shuffled over to the chest of drawers in one corner of the room.

Near lowered his eyes as well, grateful that L had broken the eye contact first. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the throbbing in his hand. To block out the memory of Mello's sneer. When he heard the ruffle of denim on denim close to him his eyes snapped open once again, and L was sitting down, or crouching rather, in front of him, holding a white muslin shirt by the collar. Near watched L as he tore the fabric into long strips, in silence and without once glancing up at Near.

When the task was completed he looked at the little boy through his feathery hair. He held out his own, long and delicately structured hand. Near looked blankly at it through the tears that glassed over his eyes and L gave him a tiny, gentle smile.

Near hesitantly held out his shattered hand to the detective, who gently took it and began to lightly feel the bones, working out where they were broken. Despite his care it hurt, and Near had to bite his lip to stop more tears trickling out. Once L appeared to be satisfied he began to gently wrap the strips of cloth around the boy's hand and wrist.

After a while, he spoke.

"Watari can teach you how to punch, if you'd like, so that the wall breaks instead of your hand. He taught me to, when I was like you, but I always liked to kick better." L said, in his conversational monotone, a smile of amusement in his voice. Near's cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the detective's helpful suggestion.

'When would _you_ have ever been like _me_?' Near thought almost resentfully, but said nothing. He knew the anger he felt right now was really for himself, not for L.

"Still, putting a crack in the wall at your size and weight is quite impressive," L continued, after receiving now reply. He paused again and then continued; "You must have been quite determined." he looked up at Near and smiled, but Near was not looking at him, choosing instead to glare balefully at his broken hand. L gazed at him for a while, seemingly lost in thought. Near did not look up to meet his gaze. After a while he turned back to the boy's hand, and finally, spoke.

"Mello won today." L said, softly and yet, those words, coming from L's lips somehow had a devastating effect. More than a few tears escaped the child's eyes, sliding traitorously down his cheeks. He wiped them furiously away. "He didn't have to, you know." L added, pausing his work to look at Near with a interested, even curious look in his eye.

"He didn't win." Near said defiantly. "I just failed, that's all." he added, more quietly, his voice thick with self-disgust. L nodded in acknowledgement of the boy's statement, returning to binding the broken hand.

"And he knows it." the detective remarked, almost to himself. Near thought about those words for a moment, thought about the smirk that spread across Mello's face as Near cried. Mello had seen him cry. The embarrassment was too much to bear. "You let him win, Near." Near flinched at the softly spoken accusation. Even though he had been telling himself the same thing, somehow coming from L it was so much worse. "I'm sorry," L added, thinking Near had flinched because of his hand. Or did he even? It was impossible to tell, with L.

"But he was _right._" the boy choked despairingly to his knees, "And I couldn't prove him wrong I couldn't- think of anything to say." His voice broke on the last word; it was hard to speak as more tears made their way down his face. L looked at the boy patiently. Gently.

"He didn't have to know that."

"What?"

"You showed him he had hurt you. You let him win." Near looked up at his mentor, his face open as it never was with anyone else. L was biting his thumb again, staring at Near's hand, his brow furrowed in thought. "I'll share with you something I've learned about the world, Near." he began, continuing to bandage the boy's hand. He paused for a little while, as if thinking, and then continued, "A man who is hiding and thinks he is spotted, is often never even noticed until he gives the game away."

"You're saying Mello hadn't won until I believed he had?"

L gave a little smile at the young boy's reply, pleased with his deduction of the detective's true meaning. "Until you _showed_ him that he had." said detective corrected, tying the last bandage in a neat little knot.

"You mean crying." Near asserted darkly, glaring at his hand. Ls eyes softened and he reached forward and gently wiped what was left of the tears from Near's face, wearing that familiar small, blank smile.

"I guess what I mean is you must never give the game away. Never let them see that they are right, that they have won. Perhaps if Mello had not known he had affected you, you would have seen through him first."

It took a only moment for Near to read between the lines.

"He was bluffing??" Near exclaimed indignantly. L smiled, looking on the shocked little boy fondly, amusement colouring his expression, confirming the question.

"Isn't everyone in this world, though?"

Near looked at him blankly; confusedly. L sighed, smile still on his lips.

"As detectives, Near, our job is to fight the cheaters. The most effective way to beat a cheater is to cheat yourself. It's better if you don't have to, but in many cases there's just no other way. You have to out-bluff them, pretend you can see through them and then, like the hiding man, they come out and give the game away. There are a lot of cheaters and liars out there in the world, Near." he looked a little sad as he spoke these words, "More than you'd think, living in a place like this." he added, gesturing to the white-washed walls around him.

"I hate this place," Near said, glaring at the polished floorboards. L nodded.

"I know, I do too," he agreed looking at Near and smiling almost conspiratorially.

"You don't have to live here." Near pointed out. "You get to go wherever you want, whenever you want. You don't have people watching your every move, your every decision. You don't have to compete with all the other children, jumping through hoops whenever you're told because you need to be the best. Becuase it's your life's purpose to try to be the best, whether you like it or not." The boy sighed. "You already are the best; you don't need to prove it to anyone."

A little smile ghosted across L's lips as the little boy declared that he was "the best" in complete sincerity and assuredness. Like someone would declare the sky was blue.

"Yes, but you're forgetting this whole institution's purpose is to prepare for my death." Near's eyes widened slightly, like he hadn't thought of it that way before. L continued, "Imagine how creepy it is for someone to walk around a place full of people being trained to be just like them. Knowing that all the people there are waiting on your demise with baited breath."

"Does it creep you out when I build things like you do?" Near asked, a mischievous smile flitting across his pale face for a moment.

"Ohhh yes.' L answered, eyes wide and serious. "Not to mention Mello's chocolate habit is disturbingly close to my own sugar-related tendencies..I'm starting to think Watari is telling you to-" he broke off because he noticed that Nears scowl returned at the mention of Mello's name.

"Near?"

"Yes?" the little boy grumbled, finger slowly entwining in his curly hair.

"When people talk to you about it, or tease you about it," Near's scowl turned into a glare. "and people _will_ talk, after all you and Mello are the two smartest children at Whammy's- I want you to do something for me."

"What?" asked Near, suspicious.

"I want you to smile at them, and say nothing." L stated simply.

"Why?" Near asked, confused now.

"Firstly because the looks of confusion on their faces will be priceless," L said, straight faced, thumb in mouth, to which Near smiled "and also, because you know something they don't know."

"What?"

"How to bluff." L said simply and smiled. He then rocked forward on his feet, leaning in to Near. Near leant forward in turn, taking his finger from his hair. Then L spoke, his tone that of someone important giving a mission. Words that the little boy infront of him would vigilantly remember for the rest of his life.

"Never let anyone know what you are thinking or feeling. Never give the game away, never let them know if they caught you out. Never think that the game is over, nothing is ever 'over'. There is always some way you can turn anything to your advantage," he leant a little backwards so he could look Near right in the eye. "And don't ever let them see you cry again, okay?" he said, smiling fondly at the child through his dark fringe.

Near flushed again at these words, but this time he couldn't help smiling a little. He nodded; he would remember. He then wiped the last of the tears from his face with the white sleeve of his pyjamas. His last tears ever, he promised L silently.

"Come on," L said, standing, and offering Near a hand to follow suit. As Near went to his bedside table to retrieve his favourite toy robot from it a thought struck him. He held the toy tighter and looked at it's shiny metallic paint, his brow furrowed.

"L?"

By way of answering, L crouched so that Near's eyes and his own were on the same level.

"After I- lost... Mello said- that I'm not good enough." Near spoke in barely a whisper, his calm voice belying his fear. L's brows drew together. He pushed the little boy's fringe from his eyes and looked directly into them, face serious.

"Mello doesn't _know _enough to decide what is and isn't 'good enough'" L said, his voice low and word final.

"_You_ do." Near voiced the unsaid words quietly.

"I do." L agreed and after a moment, smiled at him knowingly. That smile was all that Near needed.

Suddenly L found that a small white bundle clung to his waist with force enough to knock a smaller person over. L smiled and reached into his back pocket.

"Near?" He began as he withdrew two lollipops from the pocket.

"Yes?" asked the little boy, looking up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of them. L handed one to him as they headed towards the door.

"How's your hand?"

"Better."


End file.
